


With a limp and a prayer.

by HearTheCrazy



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, Blood, Drabble, Gen, I have opinions and feelings on the clown, Implied Relationships, Other, leave me be, my first actual fanfic, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-22 03:11:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12472156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HearTheCrazy/pseuds/HearTheCrazy
Summary: A sad Gamzee Drabble taking place while Gamzee is with Caliborn on the Journey to become Lord English.





	With a limp and a prayer.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic and first time actually posting one. Please let me know if you notice any mistakes. I actually wrote this a while ago and waffles for over a year on if I should post it anywhere. So here goes.

His gasp was deep and filled with pain as more purple blood oozed out of him, feeling the bone jutting out of him. He picked himself up, pushing the bone haphazardly back into its case of skin in an awkward approximation of straight. He trailed after the green boy with a fixed smile, not blaming his god for the broken wrist on top of the bullet wounds in his chest, the broken leg from the crow bar. The godling had already told him he didn’t like his face, his smile. What other response should be expected for one who displeases their God? But still the expression was frozen in place as he shambled after the smaller boy. Something cool dripped down his cheek, and dropped purple into the sand beneath him, leaving a small purple trail down his cheek that blended with the rest of the purple dripping from him. His mind flashed to another with the same extremely warm temperature as his volatile lord, whose touch was never cruel. Another cool drop slid down his cheek and feel from the sharp angle down. He wanted those gentle warm hands back, holding him and telling him it was alright, though he knew he never could return to them, his will or not, his fate was here, to serve the harbinger of double death. “Karkat,” the name slipped from his lips in a whisper, almost like a secret prayer to summon the boy, but drew the vicious attention of another despite how quiet the sound had been. His smile didn't falter under the glare, and with a sound of disgust they were off again, His lord moving a step further into infinity to ascension and the humble bard limping after.


End file.
